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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653711">A Time-Honored Ritual...Ellison Style</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa'>maaaaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Sentinel (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthday Spanking, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:41:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2006 for Castalie's birthday. I invited characters from some of her other favorite fandoms...Stargate SG1, Number3, and Supernatural...to come play.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Time-Honored Ritual...Ellison Style</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2006 for Castalie's birthday. I invited characters from some of her other favorite fandoms...Stargate SG1, Number3, and Supernatural...to come play.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blair loved rituals.</p><p>He’d spent much of his life reading about them, studying them, observing them, and participating in them.</p><p>Rituals have been, and continue to be, an important part of every culture throughout the world, throughout the course of history. Their purposes vary in order to meet the needs of a tribe or community’s religious ideals, or to provide for a spiritual or emotional need. They are used to strengthen social bonds, to demonstrate respect or submission, or to state an affiliation, obtain social acceptance, gain approval – or, at times, rituals are performed just for the pleasure of the ritual itself.</p><p>Trivial actions, such as hand-shaking or saying hello stem from rituals. Worship rites, inaugurations, marriages, funerals, societal rites of passage, graduations, parades…even trials, executions and scientific symposiums are all loaded with symbolic actions dictated by regulations or traditions, making them ritualistic in nature.</p><p>A curious custom in many circles is a ritual known as a birthday spanking, the origin of which is considered, by some, to be symbolic of of the single smack on the bottom administered by a doctor or midwife to a newborn infant, to start them breathing, thus beginning their life. A spanking to the bottom of a birthday boy is traditional in some cultures as an annual rite of passage…a matter of bonding perhaps. Yet another anecdotal tale of its origin is that of the ancient Egyptians using spanking on the birthday to prepare the person for the afterlife by softening the body for the tomb.</p><p>At any rate, an essential feature of a ritual is that the actions are not arbitrarily chosen by the performers, nor necessarily dictated by logic, but are, at least in part, prescribed and imposed upon the performers by some external source.</p><p>It was Blair’s birthday.</p><p>And a ritual, performed for the pleasure of, and to be delivered as prescribed by, the external source known as Jim Ellison, was about to be performed on Blair’s ass.</p><p>Blair hated *this* ritual.</p><p>He stood at one end of the room, feeling quite exposed and a damn bit chilly, in just his midnight blue silk boxers.</p><p>Jim stood at the other end of the room, looking damn fine and comfortably warm, wearing a body hugging cotton tee shirt, a pair of relaxed-fit faded stonewashed denim jeans, and pristinely white socks. A rapacious smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. He tapped an oval shaped leather paddle lightly against the palm of his left hand.</p><p>Between Blair and Jim was a row of men, three on a side, spaced unevenly and standing several feet apart from each other. Each held a paddle…several wooden, the rest leather…of various shapes and sizes.</p><p>Blair smiled nervously and managed a small half-wave at the men.</p><p>He noted that the Winchester brothers looked a little unsure about what was about to take place. At least, Blair noted on second glance, Sam looked hesitant. Dean, on the other hand, suddenly seemed very sure of himself, and in fact, appeared to be sizing up the paddle in his hand against the shape of his brother’s rear end.</p><p>The Eppes brothers were relaxed and ready to start. They spent a couple of minutes playfully swatting each other with their paddles, testing their reach and measuring their swings. Charlie laughed and winked at Blair, an indication, Blair hoped, that he’d be easy on Blair. The look Don gave him offered no such quarter.</p><p>Daniel Jackson and Jack O’Neill filled out the gauntlet. Blair knew what to expect from both of them. Jack was a no-nonsense military man who swung a mean paddle; he’d felt the sting Jack could deliver more than once in the past. And Blair's good pal Daniel had no qualms about making the most of the maximum preset number of smacks Jim allowed each man. The wooden paddle he held, drilled with tiny holes, had visited Blair’s butt more than once.</p><p>He decided he needed to have a little talk with Ellison about sharing certain toys. That, or…he had a certain favorite paddle of his own that might just have to be placed in Jack’s eager hand on Jim’s next birthday.</p><p>“Okay, birthday boy,” Jim finally said, “enough stalling.” He crooked one finger at Blair and waggled it in invitation.</p><p>Blair hopped lightly from foot to foot, bouncing his balled up fists against his thighs, screwing up his courage. He shivered, and immediately felt his face color as he realized he’d be plenty toasty in a few minutes. He took a deep, steadying breath, and bolstered by Jim’s last minute warm smile, took off.</p><p>He passed Sam first, and the younger Winchester landed three pretty good swats, but didn’t manage to grab hold of Blair. Dean fared a little better, taking advantage of Blair ducking low in order to slip by. He missed his chance to snag Blair, but Blair’s slightly bent position brought his butt into range long enough to be walloped five times by the sturdy leather paddle Dean had chosen.</p><p>Blair danced a little to the left, deftly thwarting Don’s attempt to latch onto his upper arm. He managed to stay within the gauntlet, thus avoiding penalty swats. Nevertheless, Don’s paddle found its mark six times.</p><p>True to his earlier hint, Charlie gave Blair a reprieve and barely tapped Blair’s butt as he scooted past.</p><p>Daniel had played the game too often, and Blair’s luck ran out as soon as he came within Daniel’s allotted space. He dodged to the right, but well with the rules of the ritual, Jack leaned into Blair’s running space, never moving his feet, and shouldered him back toward Daniel, who easily glommed onto Blair’s arm. He yanked Blair to his side, to the cheering, hooting, and clapping of his fellow spankers. He bent Blair at the waist, and locked him under his left arm. Daniel looked to Jim, and everyone’s gaze snapped that way too. Jim nodded his head with a jerk, and a moment later, Daniel pulled Blair’s boxers down.</p><p>Blair’s butt was a rosy pink from the birthday swats he’d already received. Daniel rested his paddle against the warmed flesh and Blair wiggled. Daniel shushed him soothingly before removing the paddle. Then he brought it down, hard and fast, applying ten smacks to the center of Blair’s ass.</p><p>The pain was exquisite; almost as good as what Jim could inflict, and Blair moaned appreciatively.</p><p>Daniel gave Blair one extra light tap before righting him. He gave Blair a soft kiss and slid the boxers back into place. Then he smiled devilishly, and nudged him back into the runway.</p><p>Blair knew he was doomed. Jack and Daniel always managed to tag-team him, and it was only a moment before he was bent over again, this time under Jack’s sturdy arm, and his backside was once again bared.</p><p>Jack’s style was a bit different than Daniel’s, but just as effective. He delivered his swats slowly, drawing out the time between each hit to allow for the maximum in anticipation, causing Blair to yip and wiggle impatiently. And he held the paddle against Blair’s butt after each swat, trapping the sting.</p><p>When he finished, Jack eased Blair up, slid the boxers up once again, mussed his curls, and gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead. Blair leaned against Jack for a minute, breathing heavily.</p><p>And the next thing he knew, Blair was in Jim’s arms.</p><p>Jim, who was hugging him gently, and cooing gentle endearments, and kissing him with warm, moist lips.</p><p>Blair felt giddy, and shaky, and ridiculously well spanked, and Jim hadn’t even had his turn yet.</p><p>Jim held him for a minute, stroking his ass, and patting it possessively.</p><p>The other men clapped once again, and egged Jim on, demanding the true birthday spanking be delivered.</p><p>Jim obliged by walking Blair a few steps and then sitting down, pulling Blair down and over his lap. He rubbed Blair’s butt, sliding the cool silk across the hot skin, working folds of the fabric into the crevice of Blair’s cheeks.</p><p>Blair babbled something about it being the best birthday ever and scootched himself forward on Jim’s lap, making his own demands.</p><p>Jim laughed and slipped a hand under the waistband of the boxers. He gauged the heat and tenderness of the flesh under his fingertips. Then he worked the boxers down past the underside curve of Blair’s cheeks.</p><p>He placed the paddle he’d chosen on Blair’s backside and the earlier smirk reappeared as Blair hissed and squirmed.</p><p>“How old are you, Birthday Boy?” Jim taunted.</p><p>Blair licked his lips and shook his head before replying, “Um? Twenty, um, twenty-something? Um, Twenty-seven?”</p><p>“How about I count?” Jim offered.</p><p>“Yeah, man, yeah, that’d be good,” Blair answered with an impatient butt-wiggle.</p><p>If there was one thing Jim Ellison knew how to do, it was paddle Blair’s ass.</p><p>With their friends looking on, and helping with the count, Jim gave Blair the best birthday spanking he’d ever received. And later, when the others had left, and Blair lay snuggled next to Jim after being fucked nearly senseless, he smiled a big ole Cheshire-cat smile.</p><p>Blair loved *this* ritual.</p>
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